Pyjamas

“Dad. In future, can you please change out of your pyjamas before leaving the house with me? It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s 2:44 am, mate. Who are you worried about us bumping in to? Anyway, you’re in your PJs too.”

“Yeah, but I’m wrapped up in my pushchair.”

“Honestly, what I look like right now is the very least of my concerns. Besides, I’m wearing a hoodie and a cap.”

“Oh, that makes it way more acceptable!”

“Less of the sarcasm, mate. After four hours of crying, you’re on thin ice! Coming out for a walk was a last resort after the Calpol, Dentinox, milk, water, dummy, stories, toys, music and Hey Duggee. Even Ewan The Dream Sheep didn’t work! Do you honestly think I wanted to be out walking around the block in the dead of night. I’m freezing!”

“Maybe you should’ve worn more suitable clothing, then! Lol.”

“You’re not funny, mate. Go to sleep.”

“One more lap and I might nod off…”

“You had better give me a lie in tomorrow for this.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. It’s Sunday. I always like to get up bright and early on a Sunday!”

“Thanks mate.”